


Song of the Heroine

by IreneT447



Series: Song of the Heroine [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, F/M, Femslash, fem!Link - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneT447/pseuds/IreneT447
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meek, clumsy farm-girl Link's life duty is to get married. Her life becomes complicated as she is haunted by strange dreams and the desire for adventure. After a life altering event forces her to embark on an epic journey, she must face harsh social prejudices, grueling monsters and puzzles, and her own confusing feelings for the princess to rise as the first Heroine of Hyrule.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

What's the first thing you remember from a dream?

When I ask this question, apart from a quizzical expression in response to the tangential query, most people tell me it's either the feeling of weightlessness of good dreams or terror from a nightmare. I have to agree because I do often have both good dreams and nightmares.

But this dream was different.

I can't quite remember the feeling that I felt – just that it was a good feeling. Something akin to how a child feels when wrapped in his favorite blanket. Instead of the fantastical airiness and blurred consciousness that accompanies dreaming, I felt fully awake and aware. I could feel cool morning mist on my skin, and the spongy texture of full moss and lichens beneath my feet. There was a faintly sweet scent coloring the air, like a flower's perfume. The towering forests arched overhead like a mother's protective embrace.

And then there were these eyes. Bright and blue, like the azure of the sky, bearing a depth and intellect beyond my own, I remember staring solely into those beautiful eyes.

A delicate, pale hand was offered, "Come, Hero."

Without hesitation I took that hand, and followed a golden haired girl through the mists until we came upon a clearing which overlooked all of Hyrule. I could see everything, from the red veins of the deserts, to the furthermost reaches of the mountain provinces, the green of farmland in the basin, all the rivers and lakes.

"Behold," She said, "Your destiny."

That's when the dream ended, and as I roused from my bed and shook the sleepiness from my limbs, I felt haunted by the sense that something important had just happened to me.


	2. Lovely, Invisible...

"Link? Have you seen my favorite straw hat?"

Auntie's voice comes from above, muffled.

I grab my wallet from beneath a bucket, climb up an old wooden ladder from the dimly lit basement and clamber through the trap door to peer at Auntie's form outlined in the doorway. Auntie's silhouette would be intimidating if I did not know that the owner of the powerful frame is the woman who adopted me. She has a hand one hand on the door and the other is in front of her brow as she surveys the room. I take a step forward, knocking into a vase on the floor and toppling it. The shattering of clay is startling, and I jump to grab a broom.

"Oh, Link, do be careful," Auntie calls, "I take it you haven't seen it then? Such a shame! Indeed, the wind must have taken it somewhere I'll never be able to find."

I shake my head quickly and grasp the broom in a white knuckled grip. The truth is that I have seen her hat, and Auntie is right about the wind taking it away. She left it out in front of our house yesterday and I watched it twirl away in farewell while I hung laundry. I tried to follow it but of course I wasn't quick enough to catch it.

"Would you like me to go get you a new one today? I have an errand I have to run down that way," I voice quietly.

Auntie takes a happy breath, "Why, thank you, Link."

Her silhouette turns to leave. Behind her I see the cloudless sky of another bright, hot day. The piercing voice of Aunt Wilma stops her.

"Hello, cousin, and good morning!"

In the village of Ordona we like to think of everyone as being a part of one big family. I am blood related to neither Auntie nor Aunt Wilma, but I call them such just like the rest of the children. Because Auntie and Aunt Wilma are close in age, they refer to one another as "cousin". Naturally, Auntie responds, "Indeed, good morning, cousin."

I creep forward as the two women chatter about how hot it's been lately, and how delicious Aunt Wilma's berry pies are. The conversation turns as Aunt Wilma's face comes into view. Seeing Auntie and Aunt Wilma standing side by side is amusing because Auntie is much taller and stronger than Aunt Wilma, so Aunt Wilma would seem like a child compared to Auntie if not for her long graying hair. Aunt Wilma's eyes are alight with excitement glowing golden brown in the sunlight.

"Can you believe it is only weeks until the big day?" Aunt Wilma asks, and Auntie enthusiastically shakes her head.

"No, I cannot," Auntie responds with vigor, "It will be such a privilege to visit Castletown. My husband has been but not I. You will be joining us, won't you, cousin?"

"Indeed," Aunt Wilma nods with a childish smile, "Did you really think I would pass up this once in a lifetime opportunity to see the rest of Hyrule? Absolutely not!"

She imitates a marching soldier, still bearing that silly grin, "As soon as families could sign up I marched up to the front of the line and said: Move out of the way! Auntie Wilma is going to see the world!"

The truth is that Aunt Wilma would not be seeing the whole world, but it would definitely seem that way to any of us who have never stepped out of Ordona or Faron. Representatives from every village, town, and city of every province in Hyrule have been invited to the Three Days of Good Harvest celebration at Castletown. This is only so because the third day of the holiday, which is considered most auspicious of the three, just so happens to coincide with the coming of age of the Crown Princess Zelda. The Princess' birth upon one of the most important holidays of Hyrule was taken as a good omen that her reign will be prosperous and as fruitful as a good harvest.

Since Ordona is a farming village, the Three Days of Good Harvest is very much a celebration of our hard work every year supplying almost all of Hyrule with food. Families have been encouraged to sign up as representatives of our village to go to Castletown where they will wear traditional Ordona clothing with our village insignia on it and hopefully make a profit selling vegetables during the festivities. We want to make a good impression, as representatives from all across Hyrule will be in attendance, so only those who are highly thought of and well respected within our community will be allowed to go.

That's why I am not going.

"Who will look after Link in your absence?" Aunt Wilma asks, oblivious to my presence near the door.

I bite my lip in anticipation. Auntie hasn't told me her plans for me when she leaves.

"Link's a big girl now," Auntie replies with a nod as if to confirm what she just said, "She can look after herself. After all, she's fifteen and she has work."

I breathe out a sigh I didn't know I was holding. This is unexpected, as Auntie generally treats me like a young child still.

"Indeed, her coming of age is in a few months!" Aunt Wilma says with great interest.

Aunt Wilma's eyes suddenly find mine and her jaw drops in surprise.

"Link!" She greets, gesturing for me, "Good morning, niece. I didn't even see you; you're so quiet all the time. Come, come! Into the sunlight where I can see you."

I do as she says, straightening the white bandana in my hair as she gazes over my figure. When she takes my hand I notice immediately the contrast of our skin tones. While hers is a deep golden brown like Auntie's from hours picking vegetables in the sun, mine is the pale of sour goat milk from spending most days indoors cleaning. Both women tower over me as I am examined.

"Link, you've grown to be such a lovely young woman," Aunt Wilma pats my arm, "At first we weren't so sure about how you'd turn out, but now it's plain to see that you will make a pretty bride soon."

I nod slowly, absorbing what she's said. 'Lovely, invisible bride… 'I think.

"Thank you, Aunt Wilma," I whisper.

I turn back to the house and excuse myself from the conversation saying that I need to tidy up. I tell Auntie that I'll buy her a new hat and find her in the far pumpkin patch beside the cabbage fields. I assume that's where both she and Aunt Wilma are going because they both wear long green cotton dresses which are normally only worn in the pumpkin patches.I heave a sigh once I've closed the door. I honestly am not sure what I was expecting from that interaction but I definitely did not want to be the object of Aunt Wilma's scrutiny even if she did have mostly good things to say about me. I don't show my face in public all that often and so it has been a few months since Aunt Wilma has spoken with me, hence the sudden examination. Most of our interactions are brief because I am generally awkward with people and I try to avoid them when possible. Avoidance is not so difficult since people do not notice me.

Today is a little different, though, because after a few weeks of perseverating, the little knot of fear inside my stomach has become too burdensome to carry with me all day long. I kept it hidden well, but now, after days of indecision, I've decided that today I must see the fortune teller about these recurring dreams I've been having…

I glance down at the dirt floor of our home where pots litter the floor in a childlike mess. Outside, Auntie and Aunt Wilma's forms pass by one after another and their chatter grows distant. I stack the pots, sweep out the remains of the broken ceramic from earlier and eye the pots drying on the shelf.The way they sit there, inverted, they do sort of remind me of the helmets soldiers wear. I reach for the broom and swing it across my body. The bristles whistle in the air and I let out an airy giggle. I push the broom end towards the pots and say, "Stand back, vile foe!"

I twirl on my toes and pretend I'm sweeping the legs of an opponent right out from beneath him. A thunderous shattering douses the daydream like cold water. I flush with embarrassment. I had not been paying attention to the back end of the broom, which knocked over the pots once more onto the ground. After restacking the pots, I walk outside to make my errand run. Ordona is located in the Southern Farmlands which is hot all year long. However, lately it has been uncommonly warm and humid. Today, thankfully, we have been spared the humidity that has drenched my clothes in sticky sweat and has nearly driven me crazy these past few weeks. 

I run along gravel road, past rows of neat little houses and billowing laundry sheets, to get into town. Town is almost vacant except for a few of the elders who sit outside shops smoking pipes and talking in hushed tones. I take a peek in the tavern to see some of the elder women sitting inside weaving and sharing stories. As I continue through town, my sandals slapping against the hard ground, I notice large groups of men and women start to come through noisily with full carts and wheel barrels - as the name of the upcoming holiday suggests, the harvest is very good. The shifts are switching out, and I see the white bandanas of my female cousins as they return to town with baskets of vegetables of all kinds balanced on hips and shoulders. There are smiles all around, and excited chatter. I give an awkward half wave to them, and suddenly they all stop talking, the smiles disappear like sun behind a cloud, and they become intensely interested in the ground right in front of them.

I've come to the conclusion that they don't know how to deal with me, so they just don't. They all know my story, and I think it scares them. My mother became very ill when she was carrying me, and I was born weak and premature. My mother died, but by some grace of the gods I lived, although I was always weaker than my cousins. Even those who were the same age. As a result I wasn't allowed out in the fields like the others and I settled into my role as the village maid. That's what I think scares them; the fact that I've been condemned to a confined life indoors.

There is a small shop that sells hats owned by Uncle Liam. His daughter, Cousin Sofia, is working today while her parents work the fields. I stand in front of the stall for a few minutes while she sits, playing with grass between her nimble fingers. She has worked the fields for the past five days, so she works the stall on her day off.

"Um, hello?"

She jolts up and stretches, dropping the little grass figure she was weaving. It drops pitifully to the ground and unravels.

"Hello! Sorry, Link, I didn't realize you were standing there."

I say it's alright and ask if I can purchase a hat.

"Sure, that's twenty-five rupees," She gestures to the rather limited selection of identical straw hats, "take your pick."

I push a red and blue rupee forward, but before I reach to take a hat, her head snaps forward as she suddenly remembers something.

"Wait, no," She pushes the rupees back, "I just remembered. Father owes Aunt Paula a favor. Here, take it for free."

"Truly?" I ask, because I am me and not Auntie.

"Indeed. Take it."

I thank her, and take the hat and twirl it between my fingers. Auntie's actual name is Paula, but since I live with her she lets me call her Auntie, and it seems like almost everyone owes her a favor.

Auntie and Uncle are sort of like the heart and soul of Ordona. Uncle is well respected within our community because of how hard he worked in his youth. Back when he was younger, Ordona had a poor irrigation system, relying heavily on rainfall and careful geographical planning. He helped design and build all of the irrigation canals leading from the North Stream so that Ordona could utilize more land and produce a higher yield. Later, he became a trader and traveled all throughout Hyrule before resettling in his birth town. When he returned, he was welcomed back as a hero. Because of how he is viewed, all of the young boys look up to him and want to be just like him.

They say Auntie has a heart of gold. She, after all, took me in after my parents died. She's cordial, social, and was very beautiful in her early youth as a young girl from the Faron village. She does a lot for people out of the goodness of her heart, so people tend to return the favor whenever they can.

On my way back I duck into the fortune teller's hut. Her house is so dimly lit it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. The room smells of freshly burned incense, and I hear the rustling of cloths. She sits on a pillow before a table bearing a large crystal ball she is scrubbing with a white cloth. She eyes me in the darkness and beckons me to sit.

"Hello, child. What can I do for you today?" She rasps, her voice is very hoarse from years of smoking. Her teeth are yellowed, and some are missing.

"I would like a dream consultation…" I trail off as she continues to rub vigorously at the crystal ball. Her lower lips puffs out like a frustrated child and her eyes bulge somewhat.

"The big day is coming. I have to be ready, but this ball just won't shine!" She growls, "A dream consultation? That's forty five rupees, if you please."

I hand her the rupees and she weaves her fingers together to cradle her chin as she stares at me intently. I swallow thickly, not entirely sure where to begin.

"Well?" She demands, "Tell me your dream!"

"Ah," I begin a little uneasily, "For the past couple of weeks I've been having this dream where I'm in a dense forest with fog and I meet a girl and talk with her."

It's difficult to explain, but I manage it. I meet with a girl with long golden hair and blue eyes almost every night. Our conversations are about small things, but when the dream from one night ends, the conversation picks right back up the following night in the next.

"Oh, one odd thing is that she is about my age, but doesn't wear a headband," I say as an afterthought and the fortune teller nods.

Most girls in our province, the Southern Farmlands, wear a white bandana or band in our hair to signify that we are innocent and unmarried. After our coming of age we marry into our sister village, which, in my case will be Faron, and we give up our headwear. The practice is only seen in the Farmlands, or so I'm told.

When I finish, the fortune teller closes her eyes and freezes like death, deep in thought. The pose is fear instilling, especially in the heavy darkness of the room.

"Well," She suddenly barks hoarsesly, startling me, "A reoccurring dream can mean many things, but this case must be special."

"Indeed?" I lean forward with bated breath, waiting for more.

"Yes, I believe that the gods are trying to communicate with you," She wrinkles her face like an old tortoise, "They are telling you that a great change is about to occur in your life. Tell me," she leans forward so that I can smell her awful breath, "what color did you say the girl's dress was?"

"White," I respond, immediately, breathlessly.

"Aha!" She bellows, and I jump.

She flashes me a look I suppose is supposed to pass for a smile.

"Then I know exactly what this dream is! The girl in the white dress – the one with whom you converse with every night – she is you!" The fortune teller speaks with such ferocity spit flies from her mouth like thick, warm mist, "She is your future self in a wedding dress telling you that you are to be married soon!"

My jaw drops at her interpretation. It made about as much sense as calling a donkey a stallion, or a rabbit a feline. The girl in my dreams hardly looks anything like me. It would be too difficult to explain to her, but the girl seemed worldlier, educated, wiser. Did I really just spend forty-five rupees for this? I swallow and do my best to keep my face expressionless.

"Your Aunt Paula will be so pleased to hear of this! I will tell her later today, in fact!" The fortune teller continues to rasp as I try to keep myself from hyperventilating, "We shall have you married on your coming of age date! That is what we shall do! Oh, I must consult the almanacs, one moment, please."

I tell her to take all the time she needs, and while her back is turned and her attention on a number of books on a desk behind her I slip out of the hut and back into the heat of the day.

When I get to the pumpkin patch, Aunt Paula is delighted by Cousin Sofia's kindness.

"There is nothing like having a good karma day," She says with a brilliant smile, tucking the hat onto her head proudly.

"Indeed," I respond, blandly. I am not so sure I can join in her mirth.

I leave to go back to do cleaning for the neighbors.The tall grasses whisper against one another as I pass, and the clouds float by without a care. The air smells cleaner than usual, and I have to wonder why, on such a beautiful day, did I have to receive such anxiety inspiring news?

Much later over a meal of cabbage stew with Auntie and Uncle, Auntie tells me that she spoke with the village fortune teller and heard the most excellent of news. I nearly choke on my food.

"Indeed?" I ask, recovering.

Auntie goes on in great length the conversation she had with the fortune teller which spanned the dreams I've been having with my "future wedding self" as she put to finding the perfect match in the village of Faron.

"I visited Faron today," She says, chest puffing with pride, as Faron was her home village, "and discovered the perfect boy to be your husband. His name is Ralph, and he is a very hardworking boy. You will surely take a liking to him almost immediately!"

I feel my stomach turn and the thought of taking another bite is nauseating.

"That's excellent news," I lie.

Auntie's mouth continues to move. I hear certain keywords like "perfect", and "match", and "delightful". I sit in a daze. The only thought cycling through my mind is: maybe he'll see me as lovely but invisible. That way he'll pay me no mind…

This goes on for quite some time, until Auntie asks me a question.

"Pardon?"

"I asked you to tell us about these dreams you've been having," Auntie repeats and Uncle nods his big bearded head.

This snaps me out of the mental haze. The dreams were something I could talk about. Anything but my impending marriage.

"Alright," I say, with surprising enthusiasm "But first, I have to ask you a question. What's the first thing you remember from a dream?"

Both Auntie and Uncle gaze at me, and I see a question on Uncle's tongue before he bites it, rubs his dark mustache, and shrugs.

"I dunno," I he says, "I can't say I remember most of my dreams. Of the ones I do remember…"

He sits back with a soft smile, "It's how light my body feels."

Auntie crosses her arms, "Lucky you," She teases, "I get night terrors. How about you, Link?"

"Her eyes," I say, slowly as if entranced, "They have to be the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. They're perfectly blue, and they have this knowing. Gods, I could stare into those eyes all day."

Uncle's eyebrow is raised. I recognize the look; he thinks I've gone crazy. I quickly explain the dreams in much the same manner that I did with the fortune teller. Auntie gives a feminine squeal of laughter every once in awhile in places where the thought of squealing was the last thing on my mind, but I let it go in favor of continuing. I don't know why, but I was suddenly overcome by the desire to tell them what the girl calls me. Maybe because I had already shared the rest of the dreams with them and I felt safe enough to do so.

"It's kind of funny," I tell them, "But the girl never calls me by my name. Instead she calls me The Hero."

Silence envelops the room like darkness during an eclipse. I break into a cold sweat, and I fear that I have said something very, very wrong. I glance between Auntie and Uncle's stunned faces.

Then, suddenly…

"What a joke the gods have played!" Auntie explodes into laughter, "Link as the Hero? We're all doomed!"

Uncle joins in and I offer a few soft chuckles myself which sound like puffs of wind pushing futilely against a windowpane. I suddenly become very self conscious as the laughter extends far beyond what is considerate.

"We're dooooomed!" Uncle roars, "Bwah-ha-ha!"

I feel my face flash hot as I lower my head. I didn't think it was very funny at all.


	3. Azure Eyes and Watercolor Skies

The path from the cliff overlooking all of Hyrule leads down into a small clearing lined with moss capped rocks and long, ticklish grass. We've walked this path now I know not how many times, but it never grows dull. Since the start of our meetings, she and I have watched the low hanging nubs of trees swell and blossom into bold explosions of color and shape. Sometimes we come to run around and ruin our dresses, playing tag and climbing trees, laughing all the while. Other times we come to talk, sometimes about serious things, other times not. The clearing is our favorite place to relax. We have a smooth, moss-less rock we like to sit on while we pass the hours.

"I wonder where we are," I say.

She turns and casts a long lock of gold over her shoulder. Those wonderful azure eyes meet mine and I feel my heart flutter.

"I sometimes wonder that myself," She replies, serenely, "Tell me. Have you ever heard of the Sacred Grove of legend?"

I shake my head.

"Well," She leans back to gaze at the overhanging blossoms and a sunbeam catches the gold in her hair, "It is a place described in legend. It is very holy place found deep within the densest of forest. The grove is said to be the resting place of Hyrule's Blade of Evil's Bane, the Master Sword, which only awakens to the touch of Hyrule's chosen Hero."

"Is that where we are?" I ask.

"I think it is. If so, then the description in the old texts is quite apt."

"What old texts? Don't tell me you're a bookworm!" I say and she gives me a pointed look.

"Well, if you learned to read…"

I pull a face and she breaks off into laughter. I lean into her side, and she puts a reassuring arm around my shoulders. I close my eyes and let her warmth flood into me. This place is a sanctuary, and when I'm with her I feel more secure than I've ever felt with anyone else. It's terrifying. I have the senseless urge to be close to her and I don't understand it at all. The other night in the grove I had the lingering desire to know what it would be like to kiss her. It was horrifying enough to snap me out of the dream. I spent the day in a daze, like my head was underwater. I have to shove those thoughts to the back of my mind now because I could never do something like her. I'm a girl and so is she. I think she'd never want to see me again if I did something like that.

She is my only friend. I couldn't bear for that to happen.

I eventually open my eyes and follow her gaze to the break in the green, yellow, and red where sunlight radiates from the watercolor blue of the heavens.

"The Goddesses have blessed us," She says with a sort of melancholy, "Hyrule is so beautiful. It is heartbreaking to know that the d-"

We feel a lurch and falling sensation. Fog descends like a blanket, obscuring everything in an ever blurring haze. The dream is ending.

"Wait!" I call.

I reach forward and find her hand, linking our fingers together, "My name is Link," I say, frantically, "Please, tell me yours."

I see her mouth open, but her image fades. The last things I see are her azure eyes and the watercolor sky above.

__________

Auntie changed her mind, and with it, the minds of everyone else in Ordona.

It was about a week ago. I was standing over the stove making diner when Auntie charged into the house, grabbed me by the shoulders and cried, "You're coming to Castletown with us!"

And that was that.

Later, I found out that my husband to be, Ralph Faron, would be making the journey with the Faron representatives, and Auntie wanted to allow me time to get to know him and his family before my coming of age. Most girls my age know their husbands from working alongside the men in the fields shared between our villages. I, obviously, have not had that opportunity, so Auntie was determined to have us interact so that I would not walk into my wedding completely blind.

In preparation for "the big day", Auntie took me out into town and made a spectacle of me. She bought me a pretty blue cotton dress with the Ordona goat horns on it and new sandals. Every time one of her friends came along, which is to say, nearly everyone, she put her arm around me and said something like, "Would you not agree that my niece looks like Hylian nobility?" To which most would reply something like, "Oh, indeed. Such fine limbs and fair skin." Others would say, "Now, now, cousin. Must you brag so?" but eventually agree with her. There came a time when Aunts and Uncles began claiming, "She is our niece too, Paula!" which had the power to stun me.

I didn't realize it at first, but as time went on, and people actually began to notice me when I stood in the street, I suddenly became aware that Auntie was trying hard to change my reputation and image from that of the lowest end of our social community to a symbol of the Hylian ideal.

It's no secret that Hylian women in the cities like to be fair and petite. The trend never made it to Ordona because of how impractical it was. Now, though, Ordona had access to "the ideal Hylian woman", and what better way to make an impression to the rest of Hyrule than to have me come along with everyone else?

And so here I am, standing in front of a full length mirror in my new clothes, about to embark on a full day's journey to Castletown on the first of the Three Days Good Harvest.

You would think that I'd be excited. After all, this will be my first and most probably my last time out of Ordona or Faron. But whatever excitement I may be feeling is vastly overshadowed by two things. One, I am still in a state of shock over the events of these past couple of days, especially since those people who have actively denied my existence in their minds since Auntie adopted me have suddenly lavished me with more attention than I know how to cope with, saying 'hello' and smiling, and dropping endless compliments. Two(which leads me back to the original knot of fear which drove me to see the fortune teller who set off the very chain of events landing me in this position) I fear that I am becoming fond of a construct of my own imagination and that I may be going insane because of it. Because who in their right mind becomes best friends with a girl from their dreams?

The girl in the mirror doesn't look insane, though. That's something I have to cling to. She's small, thin, quiet. Her dark blonde hair swings in wisps at her hips, and she can spread a charming smile. If only the inside could reflect the out as well as this mirror. I press my forehead to the cool glass, staring into my own grey eyes.

"I am not crazy," I breathe.

The latch on the door clicks and Auntie comes rushing in with a presence like a swarm of flies, her hat haphazardly hanging over her head.

"Link!" She says, breathlessly with a scold on the edge of her tone, "There you are. The Sheikah are waiting at the gates; we were expected almost twenty minutes ago!" I turn and follow her out the door and down the street while she rambles like a brook. "The Sheikah are a stern people, Link. It's very inconsiderate to keep them waiting, especially since they've come all the way from Castletown to be our escort. Indeed! It appears we are the last," She says as we come upon the loaded carts, saddled horses, and morning faces of three villages' worth of representatives.

The caravan faces the gates in a herd. A few unknown faces reflect annoyance at our tardiness, but not a word is spoken above the low murmur of the crowd.

The six dark-haired Sheikah men standing with steel in their spines are swathed in hues of purple and silver with the Hylian crest adorning their breasts. I am very surprised at the age of a few of them; three of them could not be more than seventeen years old. From the nervous frowns and crossed arms of the Ordona men, I gather that their youth and small numbers are provoking misgivings and concern.

Auntie and I find our cart beside Uncle who nods to one of the Sheikah. The Sheikah turns to the one who I assume is their leader standing farthest right. He is the oldest among his men, his weather beaten face reflecting a serenity his comrades lack.

"Greetings," the leader calls in a resonant baritone, "now that everyone is here we may begin. My name is Loupem of the Hylian Guard. These are my men," He pauses as the Sheikah behind him bow, "and we are here on behalf of His Majesty the King and his order to escort the village representatives of Faron, Ordona, and Talos from the village Ordona to Castletown."

"Before we embark," He continues, "It is crucial that each and every one of you know, understand, and follow correct protocols when within city walls. All guardsmen have been put on high alert during the festivities, and they will be ruthless and unforgiving of any offense.

"Because the Three Days of Good Harvest originated here in the Southern Farmlands, the royal float will pass by you first," he says, "This is what that means for you: you will be sore, and you'd best be on your best behavior. The Royal Guard will be fresh. Whatever you do, do not raise your head as the float passes. I will only tell you this once: we will not be held responsible for any person's death at the hands of the Royal Guards."

The Sheikah explain a number of things ranging from the direction traffic flows to the correct way to bow before the royal procession. They talk about how it is rude to ask to shake hands with a Zora, and to keep away from rolling Gorons.

We are asked to do a "float drill" to practice bowing as the Sheikah walk past. Satisfied, Loupem prompts questions, of which there are plenty.

Uncle is one of the first to voice his concerns, "Do you honestly expect us to feel comfortable with only six of you here? You have three villages' worth of people to look after. What if we're attacked by highwaymen? There are bound to be casualties no matter how well trained each of you are." Several men from all three villages voice their agreement.

The Sheikah remain unfazed. Loupem responds, "I understand your concern. The route we will be taking is shared by many other travelling villages like yours, each with their own escorts. We have guardsmen stationed every forth kilometer and resting point from here to Castletown. Our orders are clear. I have brought the allowed maximum of men with me."

His words are of little comfort to the men, who all shake their heads. But, so as not to be rude, everyone does their best to pretend that it's alright. It does not go unnoticed that families and friends huddle together closely as we begin our journey.

While passing the gates and fields, I mostly keep my head down as the cart pushes forward while rattling my teeth in my skull. As the path begins to turn and flat farmland gives way to low shrubbery, I find myself looking up more and more.

"Look!" someone shouts, "It's the Hylian rail!"

I peer over to the far right, and nestled between tall grasses and trees are the parallel bars of steel of the Hylian rail. My heart begins to beat faster. Anticipation explodes across my chest. Suddenly, the reality of where I am and where I am going becomes real, and it is a feeling of breathless exhilaration and striking clarity. I feel as a pumpkin flower must going into bloom. My mind's eye flourishes with images and sensations of riding a horse bareback through the fields. I know not where the idea comes from, but I continue to entertain the fantasy. Because wouldn't it be wonderful to just run away and be?

We make our first stop along the banks of Lesser Lake Hylia after about a half day's worth of travel to give the horses drink and to satisfy our rumbling stomachs. The cousins run off together in an excited huddle to explore, but I stay with the cart beside Auntie while Uncle waters the horse. The lake is a sight to behold. Auntie calls it "breathtaking. It is a rich blue boasting sharp waves like a moving crystal.

"They say the Zora live down there," Auntie says, "Can you imagine what it must be like to live underwater? I think my fingers would become ugly prunes."

"And how would we farm?" She continues, "I suppose we would be left farming fish and seaweed. It's just not the same; I don't know how the Zora can call themselves accomplished!" She lets out a deep laugh. She's joking, of course.

"The world's a vast place," I comment, and she nods deeply in agreement, "It's so strange seeing it for the first time. I always knew it existed because of the stories Uncle told me about when he was a trader, but it never became as real as this is now," I rest my chin on my knees happily, "And now that I know it exists and how incredible the parts that I've seen are, I get the feeling I'll be a little dissatisfied having to return to Ordona right away."

Auntie considers what I've said, "What are you going on about?" She finally states, "It's a treat we're getting, that's for sure. But home is home. Besides," She sniffs, "I'm already going to miss you when you go to Faron." Upon bringing up my marriage I feel a whole slew of emotions I can't articulate.

"What's that about home?" I ask to avoid talking about it.

She lets out a slow breath, "Home? Home is returning to the village after a day of picking out with the cousins, our carts full and arms sore. Home is the scorch of the sun and soothe of the wind. It's in the faces of the nieces and nephews, your face, and my husband's. It's in the holidays and late tavern nights, the rituals and familiarity. Home is all of this and more. Most importantly," She gives me a look I can't decipher, "Home is knowing your place in our community, embracing it, letting it become a part of you. And being content for it because the gods blessed you with the life you've been given and to be disdainful or wasteful is the highest disrespect to both them," She points to the sky, "and to yourself." She settles a hand over her breast and pats it.

I breathe a sigh she doesn't hear. I wonder who told her that and how many times she's said that to me. It's a common theme in Ordona: know thy place. I really try, but sometimes I have to wonder if I'm worth more than just a maid or a pretty bride to wed, a status obligation or a means for my village to draw attention.

"Ah," Auntie continues, "Speaking of the Zora, I haven't any idea how they plan to make it to Castletown. Is there a waterway or will they be escorted along roads like us? A fine mystery!"

"Indeed," I say, pointing over to where two of the Sheikah escorts are on break eating while the others remain on watch, "Would you like me to ask one of them?"

She sends me off and I'm glad to get away. Sometimes Auntie gets to me in a way I can't explain. She might make a comment or an observation, but it's the way she says it that makes it sound like an accusation, and it's the guilt I feel afterwards that makes it even more so.

"Excuse me," I say to the Sheikah, "May I trouble you with a question?"

Neither man looks up from his meal, nor do they acknowledge my presence. Strange, I think, I didn't think I was this invisible.

"Hello?" I try again, "My aunt would like to know about Zora transportation."

Still, I might have been an insect flying by. I wave to get their attention, but both men stare through me wordlessly. I leave with an unpleasant pulling at my gut.

"So, what did they say?" Auntie prompts as I crawl beside her in the back of the cart.

"There's a waterway," I lie.

"Oh, good," She says, but her attention is already on something else. I follow her gaze beyond mingling Faron, Ordona, and Talos children splashing in the shore to a farming cart bearing the Faron insignia. I bite the inside of my cheek in anticipation for what Auntie says next.

"Is that them? Indeed! It is Ralph Faron! The father bears little resemblance to him – Look!" She points to the red haired boy standing boredly beside the cart, staring at the green grass in front of him. I blink, taking in his figure. I see broad, sloping shoulders and powerful long legs. His skin is perfectly browned from working in the sun. He is...I suppose I could call him charming.

She begins pushing me from the cart.

"Now's your chance, Link!" She squeals with excitement, "Go on! Introduce yourself. You look lovely!"

I walk over numbly. I feel like a puppet master is pulling strings to animate my body, making me walk forward.

"Hello," I say.

He looks up blankly. His eyes are so dark. "Hello," He returns, "What do you want?"

"I simply wish to make your acquaintance. My name is Link Ordona."

An eyebrow raises. His dark eyes scan my body and a haughty smirk tugs at his lips.

"Is that right?" He comes closer, brutally invading what I like to call my 'personal space', and suddenly it becomes painfully obvious exactly how much taller and stronger than me he really is, "You're not what I was expecting."

"I beg your forgiveness."

I feel like a flighty deer suddenly caught frozen in the path of an oncoming train. He takes a strand of my hair and pushes it behind an ear.

"No need. I'm pleasantly surprised," He says and I suppress a shudder, "I am Ralph Faron. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Indeed?" I manage, the words feeling unpleasant on my tongue, "That's good to hear."

He leans against the cart, all while eyeing me. I remain frozen until he speaks again.

"I'm parched. Why don't you get me something to drink?"

I turn on heel and walk towards my cart. My head is still in a daze from the surreal interaction.

Auntie leans over the side, "How is he?"

"Just a moment," I voice, mechanically while fishing in the bags for the cups and canteen, "I'll be back in a moment."

I offer the cup, filled with fresh water from our canteens, to Ralph who takes it and throws it back.

"Why couldn't you have gotten it yourself?" I ask as he wipes his chin.

He shrugs, "You're mine, aren't you? Or, at least, you will be in a couple months. Tell me, do you do everything you're told?"

I keep my features neutral as best I can, but a frown is threatening to wreck devastation upon my face, "I don't have a choice, do I?"

He resumes leaning and eyeing.

"Let's say you did have a choice, or at least the courage to pretend you did," He smirks, "What would you do?"

What would I do? What would I do indeed!

The truth of the matter is: there is nothing I can do. I have no skills beyond that of a maid, I am small, defenseless, and know not any means of doing anything differently. I am completely dependent upon those around me. In another world and another life I should think I would like to travel and do something a little more worthwhile with my life than clean other peoples' messes. But I am me, and this is now, and I cannot with every stretch of imagination foresee my life changing no matter what decisions I consciously make. 

And I think Ralph knows this.

Ralph Faron is a jerk. That is plain and simple. But I cannot help but hope for a silver lining of sorts. Yes, I think deep down there is one part of me that wants this marriage, desires it, even though Ralph is a jerk. Because for me, it's a new beginning. I'll be in a new village, out of the house I share with Auntie and Uncle. Ralph is surely capable enough of providing for both us, and I can spend the rest of my life living simply. My only responsibilities will be caring for the household, rearing children, pleasing Ralph…

"I don't think I would do anything." I respond.

He smiles a smile that's all teeth.

"I see," he says, "You know, Link isn't a name suited for a girl like you."

I wonder, what does he mean, a girl like me? What does he actually know of me?

"How about if I just call you 'dear'?"

I swallow, "And what, may I ask, would I call you?"

"I'm sure anything your pretty little head comes up with will be sufficient," he says, "dear."

I excuse myself.

As I walk back to Auntie where Uncle is fixing the horse back in place, I have the desire to reach out to whatever's nearby – a rock, a bag, someone's stuffed horse toy – and throw it into the lake as hard as I can. I suppress the urge and climb in beside Auntie.

"So-o?" Auntie sings, nudging me, "What do you think?"

I think Ralph Faron could use a good beating with a piece of petrified wood.

"He's…not what I expected," I say in mimicry of his own words.

Auntie's brow furrows, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

I debate this in my mind for a moment. I am quite certain that he is, on every level of his being, an inconsiderate child who thinks of me as his thing or possession – he can't even call me by my name! – yet this could be better than if he were actually interested in me as a person given his intolerable personality. If I am just a piece of eye-candy he can come home to every night, then there's little risk he'll do much in terms of getting to know who I am. I think long, meaningful conversations are definitely out of the picture. What this means is that he'll probably be working from the crack of dawn to the call of dusk, and see me for only a couple waking hours every day. I suppose I could get what I want, and that is, freedom. Freedom to think my own thoughts and be my own person without anyone asking questions or peering in on me as I live my life.

"I'm not sure yet," I respond after a beat, "It might be good thing. I don't know yet."

Auntie voices her delight in a squeal.

This is one of those moments when I truly believe I am crazy, because I feel pressured to feel like the luckiest girl alive and instead I feel like I'm dying inside inside. But no, I can't think like that. I have to remember the girl in the mirror and put my best face forward.

As we move in closer to the heart of Hyrule, we begin to see more villages as we pass through. Some people stay out by the gates, mostly young children, and wave enthusiastically, their bright, shining faces gazing at us in awe at the number of parties they've seen pass by today.

Auntie leans in closer to Uncle who instinctively puts an arm around her. I hear them discussing things like what the weather is like in Castletown this time of year and how exciting it will be to take part in this national holiday and how many carts of vegetables we'll be selling on the streets. I try to focus on other things like the gentle breeze, or the puffy white clouds in the sky, but it's difficult not to pay attention to them when there's no one to talk to or play with. The way they're sitting like that together, completely content, as if they were both meant to sit that way in each other's arms, I feel an awful pulling at my heart as I watch them. It reminds me of the girl in my dreams, actually and how we interact with one another, and how Ralph and I could never reach this level of mutual comfort with each other even if our lives depended on it.

Everything comes to a jolting halt as the carts in front of us cease momentum. Auntie, Uncle and I lurch back and forth.

"Hey! What's this now?" Uncle demands, "Just what is going on here?"

A boy from Talos points to a caravan up ahead moving briskly from a side path onto the main road that we are on. We watch as cart after cart crosses over and becomes a part of one uniform line of hunched, hooded travelers.

"Where are they coming from?" I ask, "I don't see a village insignia."

Uncle squints at the hooded figures, "I'm guessing they're from much, much farther south than we are. At the pace they're going, they'll beat us into the city gates by at least an hour."

"There are so many of them," Auntie breathes as the carts continue to roll on and on, "I wasn't aware of there being very many villages south of ours. Did they bring everyone?"

"I would believe it," I say.

Uncle shrugs and scratches his beard, "They come from an area closer to the Swamplands."

We all shudder as a silent chill creeps up our backs. The Swamplands are where all malevolent creatures were banished to nearly two-hundred years ago. The area itself is sealed with a magical border, but the land that has haunted every child's nightmares at least once or twice in his or her lifetime is enough to make us quiet.

Finally, the last cart turns, its rear facing us. There is a single figure riding the back, the hooded traveling cloak shading most of his or her face. For a split second, the figure seems to be aware of my staring and lifts its head. My breath catches as beady eyes like black coals stare out at me, and I am left with a feeling of nausea.

Our caravan begins moving again. Auntie and Uncle continue snuggling.

I am left drowning in a world of 'wrongs' and senseless things I can't make heads or tails of, like beady eyes and pretty brides, homes and imaginary friends.

By the time we enter the massive gates to Castletown, it is nearly dusk. The sky has orange spilling over it with a purple cloak trailing behind it in lovely painted streaks. The noise is phenomenal; it is overwhelming. I have to cover my ears at first until I get used to it. There are children dashing around shops and flourishing fountains, people of all shapes and sizes milling standing, talking, all wearing colorful clothing. The Goron rock people vibrate the ground as they dance, and the Zora watch the passing crowd in blue clusters. Every once in awhile, I'll catch a flash of white in the crowd from the bandana from another girl from the Southern Farmlands. There's clapping, lights flashing, scents both wonderful and foul coloring the air.

The Sheikah navigate us through streets both broad and impossibly narrow into our designated lot and bid us farewell with little ceremony. When we try to thank them, they've already disappeared leaving many of us scratching our heads.

As one, excluding me, of course, the villages set about making camp: raising tents, organizing carts, feeding and watering horses, and stuffing fresh hay into bedrolls. I'm assigned to clean up a mess some young Ordona boys made in the back of their cart involving inkwells and horse droppings.

I give the three truants a stern look once I've finished.

"It's an honor to be here and this is how you behave?"I demand. They turn and laugh at me before continuing to horse around. Sighing, I return to the tent Uncle has pitched behind our vegetable cart.

"Beautiful skies," He says, pointing upwards, "What a night the gods have blessed us with!"

"Indeed," I murmur.

The painted skies arching above the chaos in Castletown is soothing, I guess, not enough to lighten my decidedly foul mood, but enough to ease the knot of angry tension in my jaw.

Night descends further, casting a glowing darkness over Castletown. Torches and lanterns are lit in lines running up and down the streets, flickering as darting children's shadows flit across them. Behind us rises the charred aroma of grilled meats bringing water to our mouths. The noises swell and decay like a living tide.

Uncle sits down beside Auntie and me. "After the opening ceremony I'll have to show you two the Castletown Nightmarket," Uncle says to us, "There are streets upon streets of goods – you'll both find something to bring back home to be the village envy. And with representatives from every corner of Hyrule, there'll definitely be sights to see. I wonder if we'll manage to find some Gerudo craftswomen. They have the most intricate jewelry in Hyrule. Oh! And the dresses! Paula, dear, you'll love them, and Link, you too. "

"There're so many things to do here," Paula says with awe, "I wonder if we'll manage to explore beyond the end of this street. It's been packed with vendors for the Nightmarket."

"It's sort of like an adventure," I breathe.

Uncle opens his mouth to say more, but his words are cut off. Trumpets from behind the castle gates in front of us cry jubilantly from an unseen ensemble. Startled, I clap my hands over my ears to keep my eardrums from bursting. I turn to Uncle who is doing the same with a wildly excited flush to his cheeks.

"It's starting!" He mouths.

A gale of winds pushes us to our knees as a formation of crimson loftwings take to the skies with powerful wing beats and shrieks. The riders skillfully fly in figure eight patterns above, illuminating the skies with colored lanterns. Cheers rise up from the crowd in swelling waves, and the castle doors rumble open to reveal the embellished royal float. My jaw hasn't finished dropping by the time we press out foreheads to the grainy stone. The road is still warm from the heat of the day. The announcement of the King and Crown Princess vibrates down the streets, and with a sharp call from the head of the Royal Guard, the float moves forward on hoof beats and playful jingles.

There is a phenomenon where sometimes by standing at a great height you suddenly get the urge to jump. I don't know why this happens, just that it does. The reason I bring it up is because it is a good analogy to the sudden desire I have of picking my head up and watching as the float passes by. It's less a matter of thrill than innate curiosity and the bizarre need to know what I would find in looking up. It shouldn't make sense. But in a day of 'wrongs' being 'right', in which people are either things or beady-eyed swamp creatures, and insanity is the desire to be free, the need to pick my head up and see for myself who the Hylian royalty is what makes perfect sense.

And so I do. I stretch my neck up, train my gaze upwards where the royal family is seated as the bells of the float jingle in front of me and I look.

I look directly into the most startling and strangely familiar azure eyes of a girl who I have only ever seen my dreams.


	4. Meeting Zelda

Pain erupts across my chest as my body is flung backwards like a ragdoll. A vicious hand grabs a fistful of my hair and presses my face down into dirt.

"Stay down until the royal procession passes!" The woman holding me down snarls.

I clench my jaw until bells sing hotly in my ears. A few tears roll languidly down the bridge of my nose and into the dirt. I can hardly breathe around the ache in my chest. I stay like that until the bells of the float can no longer be heard, replaced by gasps and tangible stares as the people around me resume sitting upright. The hand in my hair wrenches me into a sitting position. I let out a sob.

The woman towering over me wore a face that could stop a rampaging bull. Her red eyes bear Sheikah heritage, and I shudder at what she could do to me. I train my eyes to her decorated clothing of reds, like blood running across her body.

"Master Impa?" A guard to our left I hadn't noticed voiced, "What will you have done with this one?"

Impa casts her ponytail of long blonde braids over a dark shoulder and glowers down at me.

"Please," I sob, "I'm just a simple farm girl. I know not your customs well."

A dark lip curls and red eyes narrow.

"That much is apparent," She states in a low tone, pulling a knife from her belt.

It sings out of its sheath, and I feel my body turn to water. I nearly fall over. Is this it? Am I really going to die here? In front of everyone? I begin to shake as the Sheikah's gaze finds mine.

In a moment faster than the blink of an eye, a long tanned arm moves, and the pressure pulling upwards on my skull is immediately removed. I crumple to the ground like a brown leaf.

She cut my hair…

"Let this be a lesson to all: ignorance is an intolerable sin here in Castletown!" Impa announces, tossing my blonde tresses into the dirt at her feet.

She cut my hair!

A crowd is forming along the edges of my flickering vision. I curl into a ball and try to hide my head.

Oh, gods! She cut my hair!

Someone is calling my name. I barely look up. A hand is descending and I knock it from my face. More people, all gathering, as if they've seen all seen an apparition, with white faces and hands over mouths

"Go away!" I try to say through the constriction in my throat, "Just go away, all of you!"

I can't breathe. I can't think. This can't be happening, it just can't! The guardswoman cut my hair, and now my life is over. Everything is too much. My world fades out, and then all my senses go dark.

I am not a vain person, really. However, there is something about having long hair and spending every morning tediously combing it out to look presentable that makes it hard not to be horrified by some stranger cutting a huge chunk of it off. And she did it in front of the entire village too, so everyone knows what I did and how exactly I put shame to the Ordona name at Castletown. I'm bound to get endless grief about it for, well, the rest of my life. But that's not the real reason why I was so upset.

My eyes snap open from dreamless drifting in and out of sleep. I let out a low moan at the ache in my chest. I realize I am lying on a cot in the Ordona apothecary tent. Someone has removed my cotton dress. I can hear the muffled noise of a purposely muted conversation just outside the tent alongside the bustle that must be the Nightmarket.

"Hello?" I call, weakly.

I clear my throat and try again, "Auntie? Is that you?"

The tent flaps fly open and in step Auntie and Apothecary Dayton.

"Link! You're awake!" Auntie cries, rushing towards me, kneeling beside the cot.

I nod and ask, "How long have I been asleep?"

"You blacked out in the street right after that wretched woman…" She makes an ambiguous gesture, "and then you spent time falling in and out of hysterics," Auntie explains, stroking my face, "We weren't sure what to do, so we brought you here and the apothecary gave you a potion to rest."

"Okay," I say, trying to sit up but giving up when pain radiates from a certain point in my chest, "So, how long was it, exactly?"

"About three hours," Auntie admits.

I sigh and lean back. I was almost hoping that I slept most of the festivities away.

"May I?" The apothecary steps in and Auntie leans back a little, but just a little.

Apothecary Dayton is not a native to Ordona having grown up in the cities in our province. He is actually assigned to Faron and Ordona by the government. Regardless, he might as well have been born in Ordona; he is very tall and boasts skin as dark as Auntie's.

"Hi, Link," Dayton says, assuming a sitting position in front of me, "How are you feeling right now?"

Miserable…

"Alright, I guess. My chest still hurts," I swallow, "I think that woman kicked me."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Dayton admits, "You have two bruised ribs. Are you having any trouble breathing?"

"It hurts a bit when I breathe," I say, "Mostly just when I try to move."

Dayton nods, gesturing for Auntie's hand and placing a bottle of red potion into it. I try to get a good look at it but Auntie tucks it away quickly. Dayton sees and shakes his head.

"It's nothing to be worried about," He says, "It's just some diluted red potion. Normally, I would have someone drink a full dose, but since you're a lot smaller than most Ordona folk and you haven't finished growing yet, I'm giving you half the dose to apply to your chest directly instead of drinking it. I mixed it with a salve so that your skin will absorb it very fairly quickly."

Auntie interjects, "Wait, why can't Link drink the potion like everyone else? Won't it heal faster if she drank some? I thought you gave her a potion to drink earlier."

"Red potion is very strong," Dayton admits, "I've actually found that applying it directly works just as well, and is only a little slower than drinking it. Probably by only a few minutes give or take. I mean, once you put that on, you should feel it working immediately. As to why I don't recommend her drinking a full dose is because I'm very wary of her size and how the potion will affect her overall if she ingested some."

"Because it's so strong?" I ask.

"Exactly," Dayton says, "Call me old fashioned, but I prefer to use the smallest dosage whenever possible. Also, the potion I gave you earlier was a very dilute sleeping potion with a mild antidepressant which doesn't have as active a response as red potion does. Does that answer all of your questions?"

I nod and Auntie grasps my hand.

"Good. Put that potion on tonight until the pain stops," Dayton says, "rest, and tomorrow morning you should be up and moving."

"Thank you, Apothecary," Auntie says.

"You are very welcome. Feel free to let Link sleep in here tonight until she feels better," He says before departing.

I hear the tent flap shut and Auntie pulls the red potion out. It glitters in the lamplight. Two bubbles slowly rise up and down in the bottle as she inverts it.

"We should probably put this on now, so you can rest up," Auntie says, uncorking the bottle, "Can you move the sheets or should I?"

I half shrug the sheets off and Auntie helps me rub the potion into the large dark bruise on my chest. I feel a cool, tingling sensation, and the ache recedes until the pain is mostly gone. Auntie makes to tuck me in again.

"Wait," I stop her, "Do you know where…I was hoping I could look in a mirror, or something."

There is a medium sized one lying on its side in the corner reflecting the tent entrance. It takes Auntie awhile to train her gaze onto it.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Link," She says.

"Please," I beg her, "Auntie…"

She rises and carries her form over to the corner where she grasps the mirror, brings it over, hands it to me cautiously. She helps me to a sitting position and I swallow. There's burning in my throat and eyes as I look. The guardswoman did not leave a strand long.

It didn't used to be like this, but quite some time ago prostitutes began wearing their hair short. As a result, young girls are told to keep their hair as long as possible - I don't think I remember a time when my hair did not at least reach halfway down my back. Somehow the rules became more rigid, and a girl's eligibility for marriage hinged upon having long hair. If a girl were to cut her hair to shoulder length or shorter, she would become unmarriageable for eternity, even if she did grow it back.

When the guardswoman said that she was teaching a lesson, her words were not only directed towards me, but everyone from Ordona and Faron. My actions crippled the marriage between Ralph and me, thus condemning us both to solitary lives within our own villages. I will continue my existence in Ordona until the day I die as a spinster maid, forever serving as a reminder of the mistake I made in Castletown.

My small window for any sort of freedom is now gone. I am stuck in my own village, cast as the role of the maid and social outcast once more, and for the rest of my life. My future is full of disappearing smiles, whispers, helplessness – it's quite depressing to think about.

"Auntie?" I ask as a few tears roll down my face, "Would you mind taking scissors and evening it out a little?"

"Of course, Link," She says, gathering herself up once more and departing, returning with a pair of metal blades between her fingers and a bucket.

She sits behind me as I sit upright, holding the sheet over me with one hand, the mirror with the other. I can feel the wood of the bucket against my back, hear the slick slicing of blades cutting through my hair once again, and I watch as the wild mane around my head becomes more uniform, but not quite tame.

"I think you're still beautiful, Link," Auntie says once she's finished, "A real gem."

I sniff and brush the tears out of my face, "I just wish I had something to cover my head with. Where'd my bandana go?"

I take a survey of the tent. Auntie shakes her head and my face falls.

"We looked everywhere but it went missing during the commotion," She explains.

"Oh," I say.

Auntie clears her throat and kneels beside me once again, "I wasn't going to give this to you until the morning, but seeing how upset this makes you I can think of no better time. I went searching in the market for something to cover your hair with and I stumbled upon a skull kid from the Kokiri representatives who sold hats."

She pulls out a folded green cap from the purse over her shoulder. I take it cautiously, trailing my fingers over the tightly woven fabric. Whoever made it was very talented.

"Kokiri?"I ask, slipping it over my head "The Eternal Children?"

I pull the mirror back up and look at my reflection. I look…well, the hat certainly is something. I can't say I like it too much right now, but maybe it'll grow on me. Auntie removes the bucket from the cot and pushes it aside.

"That's right," Auntie says, "Now, I didn't see any running around. Legend has it they can't leave their sacred forest, but there were skull kids all over the place in their stead."

I blink, blurting, suddenly, "Did you just say 'sacred forest'?"

"Well, yes," Auntie responds with a concerned look, "Don't you remember the stories of the Kokiri who live in the woods? Uncle used to tell them to you all the time when you were younger."

"Of course," I respond, "I just…never mind. I guess I'm just really tired still."

"Are you sure?" Auntie continues, "Link, if there's something on your mind, you know I love to talk with you."

I shake my head. My thoughts are an incoherent soup of half finished thoughts and quivering emotions. Talking with Auntie about anything right now would only further confuse me, and I don't have the energy to deal with her right now.

"I'm really fine, Auntie," I say, "I just want to rest."

She squeezes my arm firmly in farewell, "We'll figure everything out with Ralph and the villages. And I'd be happy to continue sharing a roof with you if we aren't able to work something out. So you see? Everything is going to be alright. "

I slip back beneath the sheet as Auntie extinguishes the lamp. She crosses over to the tent exit and looks over her shoulder at me again.

"Goodnight, Link."

"Goodnight, Auntie."

The tent flaps open, and the scents and sounds of the night market waft in until closed. I pull myself to a seated position in the dark and rest my chin on my knees, mulling over the day. The encounter with the guardswoman today runs through my mind on repeat, each time I focus on different aspects of the event. There was something about the Sheikah's scowl that I felt I could relate to in a way. Was it her anger? Or was it something else entirely? The more I think about it, the more I wonder if what she had done was actually an act of mercy. Given guardsman Loupem's warning earlier about the Guard being on high alert, I find myself surprised that I am still breathing right now. Was Impa supposed to have killed me? Whatever her motives were, I must consider myself lucky(as difficult as that may be) and pray I never have to see her again.

I listen to myself breathe for a couple of minutes before running a hand through my shortened hair. As embarrassing as it will be to have to go about like this, it's not so bad I guess. I can live with it. After all, hair is hair. It will grow back. In addition, I'll have a hat to cover most of it up with.

A spinster in a green hat – it does sound unique, although it's not a title I would ever put onto myself willingly. I don't actually know anymore if I truly wanted that marriage or not. A part of me did and a part of me didn't. With a clearer head, I think the real reason I was so upset was because, up until now, I put all of my faith of finding happiness into marrying because of the freedom it had the potential to offer me, and definitely not because I was fond of anyone in particular. I won't know now if I could have found any happiness with Ralph, so it's no use mourning it.

I think the worst part of it all has to be bearing the shame of being the imbecile who couldn't keep her head down. But even that, in time, will become old news, and people get tired of being reminded of old things, and then…Well, I'm not all that sure what will happen after.

I lie back down again and pull the sheets up to my chin, tired of thinking.

I wake to the sound of bubbly laughter outside the tent. Some children run by, their shadows there and gone in an instant. I take a deep breath, hold it, exhale, and smile with a satisfaction I haven't felt in a long while. Pulling myself up, I press a hand to chest and release, feeling no pain. The apothecary was right about the red potion.

I find my dress, pull it over my head, smooth the wrinkles out of it. It's a pretty light blue and I'm not sure how well it goes with the green of my new hat, but I tug the cap over my head nonetheless.

For some reason I didn't wake up in the grove last night. I can't help but feel disappointment descend into my chest – it happens every once in awhile that I'll get a night's rest without visiting with her, although it has become an increasing rarity. The girl in my dreams looks strikingly similar to the princess riding on the float last night, and that fact tugs at my mind like a persistent child. The prevailing questions rattling my skull are: did I just imagine similarities because I wanted to, or did I actually dream about someone I've never met before? The first is more likely. Still, I wish I could have spoken with her last night. I wonder how she would respond to me telling her she looks like a princess. Probably with a smile and a brief word of thanks.

I exit the tent and heat comes down on me like a hammer. The Ordona vegetable carts are already entertaining visitors. I navigate through a thick crowd of people, some of whom take one glance at me, see the state of my hair beneath the cap, and look down suddenly, making my face flush hotly. I finally come to Auntie and Uncle's vegetable cart. Uncle is making a transaction with a woman from the Woodlands, and Auntie is fanning herself with a red fringed fan she must have purchased from somewhere.

"Link!" Auntie calls, waving as I approach, "Come over here. You're looking much better. How do you feel?"

"About as good as new," I respond, "How are things here?"

"Well," Auntie gestures towards the vegetable cart, "We've gotten a few purchases already which is so exciting. Also, your Uncle found me this last night at the Nightmarket," She brandishes the fan, "So, overall we're doing great."

"Indeed," I say with a smile.

"Oh," Auntie's eyes widen, "Link, you should probably come back to the tent. I set up your bedroll this morning. Maybe you would like to get some more rest since the cart is already being managed?"

I turn just as a woman whips her head around to stare at something else. Oh, so that's it…

I nod and hurry into the tent. Inside the heat is stifling, and the idea of sleeping the day away is very unattractive. I find some water and gulp it down with an unpleasant feeling in my stomach. I understand the need to keep me out of sight for business sake and for the modesty of my village. I still am, after all, wearing Ordona clothing. It's really very unfair, though. I want to move and see for myself the rest of Castletown.

The idea of staying put all day burns and sneaking out is suddenly very appealing. Since I'm going to be stuck in Ordona the rest of my life, I might as well enjoy the last two days in the city during holiday while I can. Sure, I might get some strange looks, but I practically eat strange looks for breakfast anyway.

If I only left for an hour or so I'm pretty sure Auntie wouldn't notice, and the only people I have to stay away from are those from Ordona, or people who at least know what our insignia looks like. Otherwise, unless I tell, the insignia is a complete guessing game, and no one will know where I'm from.

Yes, definitely, I think, watching the shadows pass behind the tent as I gather my bearings, I can do this.

Slipping out is surprisingly easy. I suppose that since everyone is focused on what they are doing, they don't take notice of such things unless they present themselves. Maybe that's why I've always been invisible, because I don't try to draw attention to myself, and when attention is drawn, it is usually by way of outside forces.

I run through the Daymarket, exotic aromas filling the air, bright colors flashing on the wind. There are people everywhere either doing shopping or in groups socializing. I keep to shaded tents, peering at vibrant cloths, dresses, and masks, but never lingering for any lengthy time at one place.

I make a purchase at a cart selling fried fish in a salty batter. Most of the fish we eat in Ordona is dried, so having one hot and moist comes as a welcome surprise. As I finish, someone taps my shoulder.

"Pardon me, " I say, trying to move away.

"No, pardon me," the man says, "I'm searching for a Link Ordona. The description matches, according to my source," He squints at me, "Did I make a mistake?"

He is tall man garbed in a strange red uniform and a satchel across his chest. His sandals are bound with strips of cloth for running.

"My name is Link Ordona," I say cautiously, "What business do you have with me?"

"Well, good morning, Miss. I am your friendly postman here to deliver a letter," He brings out a crisp white envelope and hands it to me.

"Indeed?" I respond, dread filling my stomach. I wonder if it's from Auntie wondering where I've gone off to.

"Will that be all?" The postman asks.

I glance between him and the letter before opening it and squinting at the writing. It's far too neat to be Auntie's, and as far as memory serves, Auntie wouldn't know enough characters to write it.

"Wait," I tell him, "Would you mind reading this to me," I look down bashfully, "I'm afraid I can't read."

"Oh, of course!" He says with a smile, "with your permission I shall read you this unsigned letter. Ahem…

"Dear Link Ordona," He begins, "Please meet me near the castle wall beside the Southern Entrance to Castletown. I will be waiting for you in the space between two blooming apple trees."

"Will that be all?" He asks again returning the letter to my hand.

"Wait, wait, wait!"I shake my head, hands up, "Exactly who gave this letter to you?"

He begins transferring weight from leg to leg, "This letter was given to me anonymously. But, if you look at the seal, you'll see it was given to you from somewhere within the castle. Do you have a friend who works there, perhaps?"  
I shake my head vigorously.

The postman shrugs, "Well, whoever it is sure went to great lengths to get this letter to you."

I press knuckles into my forehead, "There really must be some mistake! I don't know anyone from the castle. I don't give my name out to people, either!"

"Sorry," the postman says, jumping up and down, "Now, I really must be off. I have other letters to deliver."

He goes sprinting off. I tap the letter against palm as I watch him approach another young woman and hand her a letter. This woman looks like she could be a rancher from the Meadow Flatlands, and she squeals with delight and clutches the letter to her chest after reading it.

I sigh, tracing the symbols on the front of the envelope. I haven't been gone for half of an hour yet, and I recognize the last characters spelling 'Ordona' on the letter, so whoever sent this letter probably knows someone from my village and investigating this myself would not be inappropriate. I continue tracing as I consider my options. But, this letter was addressed to me specifically, and the postman said he had a description…There are too many questions contributing to my curiosity. I decide to go see for myself where these apple trees are and maybe get a visual on who is trying to contact me.

I know where to find the Southern Entrance since it's where we came in last night, and it takes me no time at all to find it again. In the daylight it's easier to scan and I locate a small courtyard to the left lined with trees. I watch couples holding hands with each other and their young stroll around the courtyard perimeter. I move quickly with excitement, peering between trees trying to find apple blooms. It isn't until I've run into the heart of the courtyard through a long maze of trees and shrubs that I find the apple trees, right beside each other in full pink bloom.

The only problem is that there's no one there. I approach the space in between them.

It's really rather –

Click!

-disappointin-

"Aagh!" I scream as my world is inverted and sent whirling into startling blue light.

My body is flung into a vortex, where a twisting motion carries me either upwards or downwards, I'm not sure which. I feel my stomach crawl into my mouth, and I curl into a ball to keep from vomiting. What is happening?

I hear a bang and I'm jolted into a space and land face first into a sweet smelling carpet. The scent is vaguely familiar. My limbs feel insubstantial – moving does not sound like a bright idea right now.

"Oh, so good of you to drop by, Link. I was beginning to worry that I didn't set the warp tile correctly," Says a very feminine, very familiar voice, "I'm going to assume that you received my letter and got someone to read it to you."

I hazard a glance upwards and let out a moan. I am dead, dying, dead. So very, very dead! I expect the Sheikah will come running out of the woodwork any moment now to kill me. I tighten my fists and press myself firmly into the carpet, waiting for the inevitable to occur like a drying worm in the sun being encircled by ravenous birds.

"Link?" The Princess of Hyrule addresses me, "Are you quite alright? Here," She lays a hand on my shoulder eliciting a squeak, "Are you disoriented?"

I shake my head into the carpet. The carpet of her royal bedchambers, as a matter of fact.

"If you are, please tell me. I was in a rush this morning when I placed that tile," She continues, "Link? Hello, Link?"

She shakes my shoulder, "Please get off of the floor, Link."

I shake my head again. How does she know my name? I think terror just kicked me in the stomach. I am without words.

"It is very difficult to speak to you like this; will you please get off of my floor?"

Another head shake.

She takes off my hat and swats my head with it, "Come on, Hero. Rise."

Now this gets my attention. I grab for my hat and stuff it back over my head, face flushing furiously. I sit up and scramble back into a corner beside a glowing fireplace.

Her room is, well, massive. It could very well be the size of my house. The room is filled with reds in carpentry and furniture. A large, circular bed boldly occupies a wealthy space in the middle, surrounded by mesh curtains. Desks and drawers line the far wall beside thick books stacked as tall as a man.

The princess is in a ceremonial gown of purples and gold fit with ornaments and tiara. Her long, blonde hair is pulled up in a silver wrapped braid. I can tell she is wearing a thick layer of makeup which makes her eyes seem surreally large. She gives me a friendly smile and I nearly pass out against the wall.

Her smile fades, "I'm beginning to think I've retrieved the wrong Link.

I nod vigorously. I'm beginning to doubt her mental stability... Why on earth the Princess of Hyrule would summon me, in what is probably the most peculiar manner on the planet, to her personal quarters is beyond me.

"Well, this may prove to be problematic," She states, marching forward hand outstretched, "Let's see."

I flinch as her fingers graze my forehead. She smiles warmly and offers me a hand.

"No, you're the Link I want. Come now, you know me, don't you?"

I open my mouth to deny profusely, but nothing comes out.

"Are you going to take my hand?"

"N-no." I manage, but revise because it sounds rude, "No, thank you."

A graceful eyebrow arches, "Oh, good. You can speak. I was worried you were physically mute."

She turns and walks over to a window with a view of Hyrule field. She has to sweep her skirts to move, and she does so with divine grace. She assumes a thinking pose with chin in hand.

"I understand you must be terribly confused. You'll have to forgive me for being so upfront. I just assumed that you would remember me."

I swallow, dryly. I think my throat has dried up. Her voice is touched by a note of sadness.

"Do I know you?" I barely manage to whisper.

She moves before me once again and I press my back up against the cold stone wall. In all her regality I feel very small indeed.

"My name is Zelda," She says softly, "And I've met you in the Sacred Grove."

"Oh," I somehow say, barely processing, "Thank you? Erm, your Highness? Zelda?"

"Well if you're going to address me like that, I would prefer my whole title: Her Royal Majesty the Fourteenth, Crown Princess Zelda Hylia of Hyrule," She says with a flourish of hand and skirt.

My blank expression causes her to put her hands up in apology, "That was a joke, by the way. Please, just call me Zelda."

"Oh," I say again, "Okay."

"Are you sure that you do not recognize me?" She ventures, almost timidly, "Not even a tiny bit."

I can't think of anything comprehensible enough to say that won't make me sound crazy, so I say nothing. This is all far too strange for me.

Sighing, she sits beside me, and I debate scooting away from her but don't "I would like to apologize for what my bodyguards did to you yesterday. I'm very sorry about what happened. I did not see the event, but I know that you lost your hair, which is very unfortunate," She pauses, voice and features softening remarkably,"Impa didn't hurt you, did she?"

I almost laugh. It's so ridiculous to think about – the Princess of Hyrule is apologizing to me? Outrageous!

"I'm alright now," I murmur. I have no clue what I'm supposed to say. Something tells me that I've broken over a hundred-and-one laws today already.

A look of concern passes her face, "So she did hurt you."

I shrug. Etiquette has been thrown out the window.

"There is little I can do about that now, but, can you accept my apology?"

I wrap my arms around my knees and nod. She pats my arm.

"You're not quite the optimist I remember running around the forest with," She says, "But I suppose that if you don't remember, then you don't remember. There's no use continuing down a road leading us nowhere unless to get lost."

We are silent for a minute or two until a question pressing down on my mind threatens to flatten my skull.

I clear my throat suddenly, "If you don't mind me asking, why did you call me Hero?"

"That's easy," She says, leaning back against the wall, "you're my chosen Hero to save Hyrule."

I let out an uncomfortable set of giggles, "Now I know you have the wrong Link."

"I do not," She says firmly, surprising me, "You may not realize it yet, but you do bear the Spirit of the Hero within you."

"I thought that the Spirit of the Hero was always reincarnated into a young boy," I counter, pressing fingers to my forehead, "I think I must be dreaming again. This is beyond words."

"Well, yes, the Spirit has traditionally been incarnated into a boy's body, but it is not so unfathomable that a girl could possess the Spirit. I say it's about time," She says, abruptly "Tell me about your dreams."

"Pardon?"

"You said that you think you're dreaming again," Her azure eyes find mine, "Dreams can be very telling."

If only I could tell her about a certain incident with the village fortune teller being the basis for my firm belief that soothsayers are lying scam artists. Her gaze pierces mine, and I find words forming from my mouth before I'm aware of them existing in the first place.

"W-well," I begin, " I'm usually in a forest. It's day time. There's…this girl…"

A gentle smile tugs at the princess's lips, "Does she look at all like me?"

Yes.

"Um…" I cough, "I don't know."

She claps her hands, "Did you ever accuse this girl of being…a bookworm?"

Something snaps and giddiness washes over me.

I jump up and race across the room, " I'm crazy!" I screech, "This isn't happening! It's all inside my head! Go away!"

The princess rises casts a stern look, "You're not crazy, Link. And I'm terribly sorry if our meetings have made you feel that way. You and I share a special connection as descendant of the Goddess Hylia and her Chosen Hero. We can communicate with one another during a time of darkness or great need."

"Hyrule looks fine to me!" I call, hysterically, "Quite peachy, indeed! Look!" I jab my finger towards the window, "The sun is shining!"

"Link!" the princess hisses, "You need to be quiet or the guards will come in here!"

"Good!" I yell, "They can take me away because I am mad, Princess!"

She floats across the room and slaps a hand over my mouth, "Shh! What are you doing?" She demands, pulling me into an embrace, "You are not insane, Link; I know you. Don't be so reckless!"

Though I hate to admit it, I melt into her arms. My rapid breathing slows and I suddenly become aware of the sense of familiarity that is impossible to ignore. As she watches me ease out of the fit, I feel that old sense of security flooding through me. The princess is telling the truth. The person who I've been seeing in my dreams is no construct of my imagination.

I am not crazy.

She remains like that, supporting me for several minutes until my breathing and heart rate finally return to normal. She slowly slides her hand away from my mouth, "Are you going to yell again?"

"No," I shake my head, sniffing, "I'm sorry, I don't know what just came over me. I'm usually not like this."

"I know," the princess responds simply.

"Can we pretend that didn't happen?"

"Probably; now, shall we move on?"

"Yes, please," I say with a sigh.

She releases me and moves over to a desk drawer to pull out a slip of paper, "Our time together is drawing to a close. If you can meet me be back here at this same time tomorrow morning exactly, I will explain things fully. What I need you to do, "She hands me the slip of paper, "is prepare for a journey. I've compiled a list of items you will need. In addition, "She hands me five silver rupees, which is more money than I've seen in one place in my entire life, "you will need these items with you when you return here tomorrow. Is that clear?"

I'm still staring at the silver rupees in my hand. I nod slowly.

"Pack your belongings and say your farewells, for tomorrow I am sending you on a pilgrimage," She pauses, adding, "It would be ill advised to speak of what transpired here to anyone unless you absolutely have to. Do you understand me?"

Again, I nod.

"Excellent," She says, "Now, for the tricky part."

"What's that?" I ask.

"Transporting you out of here," She says, rubbing her hands together, "Without using a warp tile."

"W-wait!" I balk, "What are you, a sorceress?"

"Yes," She says, dismissively, waving a hand, "Farore's Wind!"

I try to reach out to her once again, but in reminiscence of our last meeting in the grove, all blurs into white nothingness.

In a much more graceful manner than my first warp, I feel a floating sensation before being placed gently, as if by the hands of a goddess, onto the ground of the courtyard before the apple trees. I sink to my knees on a bed of grass and stare at the items in my hand. I can still smell the princess' perfume.

I slowly, sluggishly, retrace my steps back to the caravan. As I do, I rerun the first encounter I ever had with the princess over a month ago.

\----------

"Hello, are you lost?" A girl behind me asked.

I spun around from the tree I was studying, "I don't think so. Why, are you?"

She shook her head slowly, "I am looking for someone."

I shrug, "I haven't seen anyone else. Do you know what this is?"I point to the low hanging tree.

She peered at it, "I haven't a clue."

"It's one of my favorite berry trees. Look – you can see buds where they'll grow in a couple of weeks," I said, "They're really sweet. My Aunt picks them for me when she comes back into town some days. I haven't had them in awhile, but it looks like I might be able to pick some myself later."

"So I see," She said.

I met her gaze and felt rooted to the spot. Her eyes were a startling blue, like the sky.

"Do you need me to leave?" I asked, even though I had no desire to, "Since you're looking for someone?"

She continued to wordlessly gaze at me for a moment. Then, she chuckled to herself.

"Oh!" She said, chuckling some more, "No, I think I found just who I was looking for."

She reached for my hand, her gaze meeting mine once again, "Come, Hero."

I followed her up a winding slope until we came upon a small clearing with a view of Hyrule.

"Behold!" She said boldly, "Your destiny!"

\----------

I pause on the street where the Ordona carts are set out. I pull my hat off and run a hand through my hair. As I pull my hand away, I realize its shortness doesn't really bother me much. I grin widely to myself. I'm not crazy. Instead, I'm best friends with a princess, and apparently I have some sort of adventure in store waiting for me.


End file.
